


Arsonist, Fireman, Wet Blanket

by Raptorik



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 10:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2425259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raptorik/pseuds/Raptorik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atem finds himself at the mercy of his emotions when his flatmate, Yuugi, pulls a few strings to get him a job on set with Anzu Mazaki, his favorite actress. However, despite the newfound stability in his life, he can't help but fear the future; Yuugi seems to be distancing himself more and more while pushing him closer to "the happiness he deserves," leaving Atem sick with worry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arsonist, Fireman, Wet Blanket

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collaborative work between tumblr user psuedopurrloin and me as part of a huge AU challenge we've undertaken. I'm incredibly passionate about Atem being a helpless dork when it comes to romance, so this idea really hit a soft spot. Using our combined notes, I've taken the liberty of writing this, partially because it's our goal, and partially as a gift fic for my awesome AU partner. I hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

Atem liked to think of himself as a capable human being. Here he was, an unbelievable distance from the country in which he was raised, striking it out on his own without any assistance. Sometimes he liked to think about where he would be if his parents hadn't died when he was young, but he usually saved those thoughts for the bad nights. As it were, he barely remembered anything about them; a scolding from his mother here and there, getting the news that his first cat had died when both his parents had been so glum, or overhearing his father arguing with some faceless business entity over the phone (back when phones still had cords, even). They weren't the sort of vivid, precious memories of love and tenderness that orphans on television ever seemed to have.

He couldn't afford the time to think on it at that moment, anyway. Tonight was supposed to be a good night. He patted his back pocket as he walked up the stairs, making sure his wallet was still there. Finding everything intact by the time he reached his floor, he nodded to nobody in particular and set out on the final moments of his long, arduous journey.

Yuugi would ask where he'd gotten the money again. Yuugi was a good roommate, kind and caring when nobody else could afford to be. Atem hated that he had offered up his own half of the rent late for three months now, but tonight, he would deliver it in full, on time, and properly apologize... somehow.

He probably shouldn't have moved all the way to Japan after all. His savings had been decent when he'd first made the decision, but he hadn't realized how quickly the bills would stack up when he finally moved out of the slums back home. Now he had to pay rent, various utilities, his phone bill, and somehow find a way to feed himself on the bare minimum. Were it not for sweet, perfect little Yuugi, he would have been in serious trouble when his savings hit the last hundred thousand.

Bracing himself for the flood of questions he would undoubtedly receive, Atem turned his key in the doorknob and pushed the heavy door open. He was immediately assaulted by the heavenly smell of greasy fast food, that brilliant mix of yeasty bread, pickles, onions, and mustard that he'd come to know so well. He and Yuugi didn't often go out to eat, as they were both living very modest bachelor lifestyles that required their cabinets to be packed full of instant noodles at all times. This never sat well with Yuugi, who had apparently lived off a diet of burgers and fries before he'd left home. Take out was a rare treat nowadays, and Yuugi...

Atem swallowed, suddenly very aware of the reasoning. Yuugi wouldn't have gotten a cheeseburger with onions for himself. He hated onions. This was supposed to be a celebration.

And he didn't have the good news Yuugi would be hoping for.

He pulled out his wallet, determined to at least brighten Yuugi's evening a little bit before destroying all hope. He counted the bills before kicking off his shoes in the foyer, making sure everything was there for the tenth time. Rent, utilities, his half of the house supply ticket... the extra five hundred yen that would still be in his pocket were it not for their combined shower hair loss and the need for that industrial-strength drain cleaner...

Atem was so absorbed in his counting that he almost ran straight into his roommate, who somehow managed to dodge at the last moment. Yuugi grinned broadly, dangling a grease-stained bag right in front of his friend's face. "Extra onions, super gross, just the way you like it!"

Atem couldn't help but return that infectious smile. "At least I don't overload mine with pickles. You're the gross one."

"Nah. Still you."

"Well, at least I don't dress like... that." With a little smirk, Atem held out his hand, offering the sizable stack of cash to his flatmate, whose grin had been replaced by his notorious pout. "Here. This is my half of things for the month, plus a little extra since... well, you know."

"You don't owe me any extra," Yuugi insisted, his tone as jovial as always. "You should keep it until you start working."

"I want you to take it." Atem grabbed Yuugi's free hand and forcibly pressed the bills against his friend's open palm before any further protests could be made. "It's not much, but... I can't keep taking advantage of your kindness. I'll be fine."

"Does that mean the interview went well?" Yuugi's eyebrows were raised in that hopeful way that Atem had been dreading all day.

Knowing what he was up against beforehand didn't make it any easier. "Not really." He finally took the bag of food and trudged his way over to the couch, where he plopped down with all the grace he could muster.

"...Wanna talk about it?" Yuugi took the seat at the opposite end of the couch, sinking into the smooth faux leather-covered cushions as if he were trying to camouflage himself. Atem knew he wasn't fishing for an explanation, only offering the same friendly ear as always. That didn't really make him feel any better.

"Well..." He took a moment to shove a few of his fries, now barely above room temperature, into his mouth. He chewed slowly, not sure how to word the story in a way that wouldn't rile Yuugi up. If Yuugi could tell that he was stalling for time, he didn't voice any protest and patiently waited for his friend to speak again. "It was a two-part interview, and there were a few other people there. The lady in charge of the initial screening process was really nice, and she was impressed by my qualifications. She said I was definitely in the top three. But..."

"But what?"

"But... the final decision would be based on the results of a one-on-one interview with her supervisor. I was last in line, so I had to wait almost an hour. The lady told me her boss would go through our resumes and discuss things in depth. When I finally got called into the office, the guy looked really surprised. And then he did the usual thing."

Yuugi's smile vanished. "No way."

"Yeah. The slow talk like I wouldn't understand, discussing his fears about what my accent would mean for business over the phone. Same thing that happens every time."

"That's... I'm sorry, Atem, really." Yuugi looked down at the table, where he'd left the stack of money. "So this..."

"Don't worry. I can pay next month, too. That still gives me some time to find something. I'm... I'm sorry for this, Yuugi. I thought I'd have found something by now."

"It's not your fault. Just... where did you get this? I thought you said your balance was low."

Atem considered shoving more food in his mouth so that he wouldn't have to answer, but another part of him asked if he really wanted to keep the truth from the one person who had treated him like an actual human being since he had moved to this country. "I was... frustrated, so I stopped by the casino by the pier. It was stupid, but... I doubled what I have left. I'm not gonna leave you to make ends meet until the end of the lease. I can't do that to you."

He expected Yuugi to chide him for doing something so rash, or to at least _frown._ Instead, he got another grin. "I know I keep saying this, but you _really_ would've gotten along with my grandpa. Before he opened his shop, he was basically a career cardsharp."

"That explains _so much._ "

Yuugi opened his mouth to, presumably, protest the obvious jab at his life choices and/or possibly tastes in fashion, but was cut off by a shrill beeping noise. Atem instantly recognized it as an 8-bit remix of one of their favorite theme songs – the latest in Yuugi's ever-changing ringtone choices. He didn't even bother to make fun of it, for Yuugi's face in the two seconds it had been ringing rendered him more curious than anything.

Yuugi hated his cell phone and he made that very clear. Most nights, it remained in his bedroom on silent. _"The only person who ever calls is Mama,"_ he had once explained, _"and all she ever does is talk about how my student loans are going to kill me once I finish school next year."_ This seemed like a reasonable reason for him to completely ignore his only tie to the outside world, so Atem had never questioned it.

But this was something new. Yuugi was scrambling for his phone as if it were his only hope for survival. Curious.

"Hey!" he blurted out the moment his phone was against his ear. "It's been forever!"

Apparently there was a mysterious clause in Yuugi's phone hatred contract. But Atem, as the ever polite flatmate, didn't dare try to eavesdrop. Taking the rest of his greasy, cold-yet-satisfying food along with him, he retired to his bedroom. He would pry and tease later, of course, but right now, his pajamas were all that mattered.

* * *

Atem woke the next morning to an unusual fruity smell invading his senses. Interest piqued, he peeled his blankets back and donned his slippers, then padded slowly out into the small hallway where the smell grew even stronger. After a quick stop in the bathroom to perform his morning ritual (because sometimes, no matter how he washed, there was always that stupid ring of mascara below his eyes), he made his way to the living room.

He hadn't spoken to Yuugi after the strange phone call. He likely would have, if he hadn't dozed off in front of the extra television that Yuugi had stashed in his bedroom. Now he wished he would have stayed up, seeing the state of the place. The shelves in the den, normally scattered with open DVD cases and random assortments of games that didn't quite fit back in their boxes, were all organized and free of their usual layer of dust. The rug in front of the couch was actually colorful as well, much brighter than Atem had ever assumed it would be if anyone felt the need to vacuum it. The couch was perfectly black, shiny, free of dust and the telltale rings of long-forgotten drink spills. Even the hardwood floor, the best-kept part of the place, had been given a new layer of wax, from the looks of it.

After another moment of staring, Atem identified the source of the fruity smell as a set of small candles strewn about the living room, glowing as their scent wafted through the air. He didn't bother to ask about them when Yuugi finally trotted by, his hair pulled back to keep off his sweaty face.

"You must be having someone over."

"Oh!" Yuugi jumped, turning to face the hallway. "I'm sorry! Did I wake you?"

"No," Atem answered. "I just fell asleep early. What's with all the cleaning? You should have let me help."

"Oh, no, it's fine," his roommate hastily answered, resuming his task of returning the freshly-cleaned television remote to the coffee table. "It was late notice, and I wasn't doing anything, anyway."

Atem hummed for lack of a better response. He liked to sleep in, himself, sure, but he'd never once seen Yuugi awake before him unless there was a family emergency or the rare early study group. Seeing him voluntarily awake and working so feverishly did nothing to sate his curiosity. "So... If I may ask, what's the occasion?"

"Ah, nothing much," Yuugi replied, not even bothering to look up as he all but ran back to the kitchen. "Just, an old friend might stop by, if it's not a problem?"

"No, never," Atem hurriedly assured him. "I don't mind at all."

"Thanks. I owe you one."

Atem scrunched up his nose, peeking around the corner into the kitchen. "Why are you thanking me? This is as much your apartment as it is mine." That, and Yuugi had never really asked before his friends had stopped by in the past, which made the whole situation even stranger. He didn't want to bring that up for fear of putting his friend even more on edge. "Is there... anything I can do to help?"

"Don't worry about it. I made coffee, though, so help yourself."

The last time Atem had checked, Yuugi only owned a coffee pot because it had been in the box of kitchen supplies his grandfather had owned when he passed. He wasn't about to argue, though; not having to make his own coffee for once was a nice surprise. He took his friend up on the offer, crossing the spotless kitchen floor to find his favorite cup, which was _not_ in its usual place on the counter. He found it in the recesses of the cabinet that was _supposed_ to hold dishes normally, but had never actually been full of them due to the convenience of the dishwasher racks. At least, it hadn't been full until now.

More and more curious.

"Who's this friend of yours?" he ventured after he had rescued his cup from the evil clutches of the dark, surprisingly organized cabinet. Yuugi never cleaned when his friends from high school had plans to stop by, and it seemed he could care less about his mother's opinions on the dust that typically adorned everything. In the six months that Atem had known his flatmate, he had never seen anything like this.

Yuugi finally stopped his crusade, splaying his hands on the counter as if to hold his own weight up. "That's... well..."

Atem raised an eyebrow, peering over the edge of his coffee cup with all the authority of a perturbed parent.

"Her name's Anzu," Yuugi finally answered. "She's my oldest friend. We met when we were just kids, but I haven't seen her for a while now. I think you had just moved in the last time we went out."

Atem recalled, then, one afternoon roughly five and a half months ago that Yuugi had spent in front of his full-body mirror, trying on nearly everything in his closet before he'd rushed out of the place without so much as a goodbye. He had come back early the next morning with mysterious rouge stains on the collar of his white dress shirt, missing his tie and belt, and sporting one hell of a hangover that had left him in bed for two days.

It all made sense now.

"You're afraid your girlfriend will see this place in its normal state?"

The shades of red Yuugi's face turned were exactly what Atem had been fishing for. "Sh-she's not my _girlfriend,_ " he insisted. "She's just. A friend."

"With benefits?" Atem grinned behind his coffee.

"Well... yeah, I guess," came the halfhearted reply. Yuugi's fingers drummed on the countertop, perhaps a representation of his elevated heartbeat. "Sometimes. Not usually. It's not like that's our only thing."

"Really?"

" _Yes,_ " Yuugi groaned. "Really. And, this afternoon, she just so happens to be coming here."

"To stay the night?"

"No. She has to be at an event by ten, so I'm just... helping her pass the time."

"In your bedroom?"

"No!"

Atem snickered. It was all much too easy.

"For your information, we're going to finish the stupid RPG we've been working on since graduation day," Yuugi announced, "in the living room."

"And the whole place has to be spotless for that?"

"She's a _girl_. Girls like clean things."

"So you're trying to impress her? Gonna shoot for a more steady thing?"

Yuugi finally huffed and turned tail, stalking out of the room. "I'm done with you!" he called as he tromped down the hallway. "If you want to help, clean your stupid bathroom!"

Atem grinned to himself. In fact, seeing Yuugi worked up almost made him giddy, not just because he took immense pleasure in making his dear friend so uncomfortable. He'd been worried for some time now that Yuugi was distancing himself too much from his old friends, hiding behind the fatigue from his midday classes and the essays he always seemed to be writing, trying to conceal himself outside the reality that had come about after the death of his lifelong role model. Sure, Yuugi had been shy since their initial meeting, but he'd seen his friend out of his shell enough to know that he wasn't the type to keep to himself as much as he had been as of the late. Seeing this much energy and excitement from the other assuaged the fears that had been nipping at the corner of his mind.

Yuugi wasn't yet jaded enough to refuse a visit from a lady friend. Hope remained.

After finishing his coffee, Atem took some glass cleaner and a broom to the hallway bathroom. It wasn't necessarily _his,_ really, but he could humor Yuugi just this once.

* * *

Atem happened to be changing clothes when the doorbell finally rang that afternoon. Yuugi had insisted that he stay home despite the company, going so far as to invite Atem to meet his childhood friend. "You'll like her, I promise," he had said in his best air-of-mystery voice. "And not just 'cause she's pretty."

He supposed Yuugi was trying to show off his secret girlfriend, and he didn't want to seem ungrateful for the clean apartment, so he had agreed after some mild deliberation. He had nowhere important to be on a Sunday, anyway; most business offices were closed, so he didn't really have a chance at snagging a job interview anywhere, and there was absolutely no reason for him to go waste his money on a solo movie or dinner. Instead, he passed the hours wondering what sort of girl could steal Yuugi's attention like this Anzu girl had. Actually, what were Yuugi's tastes, anyway? Did he like petite, demure girls that fit in with someone quiet like him? Or maybe he was into girls who could pull off punk styles like his own? He honestly didn't know what to expect. In the last six months, Yuugi had been nothing but one surprise after another.

By the time Atem got his belt on, he had come to the conclusion that he didn't know nearly as much about his friend as he'd previously thought. He was determined not to let it get him down, though; he would simply have to learn some more today, and who better to tell than a childhood friend? With his resolve renewed, he buttoned his pale gray shirt, tucked a few stray bangs behind his ear, and left the comfort of his bedroom to meet the unknown.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight in their living room.

Standing a good ten centimeters taller than Yuugi was a long-legged woman in a straight-cut business skirt and a simple blouse. Her dark brown hair was askew, caught beneath the sunglasses she had pulled back atop her head. Atem watched as she bent the tiniest bit to plant a kiss on Yuugi's cheek, startled beyond words and utterly unable to form any sort of reaction to the sight.

She was an elegant woman, yes, but that was not what surprised him the most. Honestly, he wasn't quite sure he was even seeing correctly until she stood up straight and caught sight of him there in the hallway.

"You must be Atem," she greeted the moment their eyes met, offering him a genuine warm smile that seemed almost out of place compared to the professional way she held herself. "Nice to meet you! I'm–"

"Anzu Mazaki," Atem blurted out, not quite sure where his manners went or why his feet felt so numb all of the sudden.

"Sometimes," Yuugi almost-whispered, "I forget that my flatmate is a hopeless nerd who lays around and watches crappy soaps all day."

Anzu immediately punched Yuugi's shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with daytime television!"

Atem held out an arm, spreading his fingers against the rough texture of the wallpaper in some meager attempt to stop his knees from giving out. Sometime, in the hours since the rejection at his latest job interview, his scrawny shut-in broke-ass full-time-student flatmate had managed to invite the leading actress of his all-time favorite show to their crappy apartment in the nowhere district of Domino City.

Trembling despite his steel will, he turned and ambled back down the hallway, leaving Yuugi to his fake argument with one of the most famous women in the country. He entered his bedroom and closed the door before sinking to the floor, his back pressed flat against the wall.

Anzu Mazaki was in his apartment.

Yuugi hadn't given him anything resembling a warning.

The room and his mind spun, leaving him in a daze of confusion mixed with a weird sense of excitement. He felt like he was going to throw up, but he wasn't sure if the shakiness of his hands was even related. Everything felt surreal, just as it had when he'd boarded his first plane months ago, or when Yuugi had handed him his own copy of the keys to their apartment. His stomach did somersaults while his heart pounded a new rhythm entirely, and he was lost somewhere inside.

Yuugi was banging a television star.

Atem closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall. His mind raced to make explanations for questions he hadn't even asked yet. Of course Yuugi wouldn't have mentioned it. Yuugi was sweet and polite and would naturally do anything in his power to keep a secret love affair out of the tabloids. He would have been a good friend like that even if he hadn't known the woman his entire life. He was the best sort of friend anyone could wish for.

Except for right now. Right now, Yuugi was on his bucket list. He wasn't sure if his hands were trembling with weakness or rage.

Yuugi had to have known full well that he would recognize Anzu Mazaki right away.

And here he was, crappy roommate Atem, barely able to pay his half of things, wearing a shirt that he'd had to mend at least three times and faded once-black jeans that could maybe pass for stylish if nobody could see how frayed the belt loops were. Atem, the naïve idiot of a friend, completely unable to form a proper sentence in his mind after seeing his favorite actress standing in his living room. Atem, who was going to put hair removal cream in Yuugi's shampoo bottle if he could peel himself off the floor ever again.

"Nice to meet you," he whispered to himself. His voice didn't even sound familiar in that moment, strained beyond recognition. How in the hell had Yuugi expected this to go over well?

A knock came suddenly from the door, as if someone had heard and come to wreck any possible good outcome of the unspoken plea from the tiny part of him that wanted nothing more than to curl up under his bedsheets. He couldn't find his voice to answer. Slowly, the door creaked open, and Yuugi's familiar round eyes, shit-eating grin, and deviously furrowed brow appeared in the small crack between the door and its frame.

"Hey, _buddy_ ," Yuugi greeted, as if this were just some normal day and he always spoke to Atem like he were a kindergartener. "You okay in here?"

Atem pursed his lips, refusing to make eye contact as his mind struggled to overcome the strange dizziness.

Yuugi's gleeful laughter echoed from the ceiling. "You're precious."

"I can't believe you, Yuugi. You're so mean," came that all-too-familiar voice from somewhere in the hallway. Atem felt his heart skip a beat, even though he couldn't see the face of the woman who was both the cause of his problem and, at the moment, apparently his savior. He felt, more than saw, Yuugi rise to his feet just next to him, still laughing like a child.

"No, you don't understand," his friend insisted, now out of view. "This is _not_ what I expected to happen when I introduced you two."

Atem forced himself to focus on the opposite wall as the door finally opened all the way, exposing his bedroom and all the nothing-besides-food-wrappers in it to a person he still couldn't believe was actually there. He hurriedly stood once more, determined to make at least _somewhat_ of a good impression now that he had nowhere to hide and think. The sheer panic threatened to overwhelm him as he realized he couldn't just stare into the middle distance if Yuugi was so intent on him exchanging pleasantries with his _friend._ He pivoted on one heel, all too stiff, and did his best to create the illusion that he was just a normal, well-adjusted person who had conversations with celebrities every day.

"Hey," Anzu gently greeted. "Yuugi tells me you're a fan?"

He didn't really know how to respond, other than a slow nod. Not only his roommate, but _Anzu Mazaki_ was speaking to him as if he were a small, scared child. He just _knew_ he looked like a complete nitwit. As a last ditch effort, he drew upon every remaining ounce of his willpower and offered what he hoped looked like a cordial smile. "Yes," he murmured. "Sorry for leaving; I just... forgot to grab my phone."

In this close proximity, he couldn't help but notice how perfectly her makeup was done, and was suddenly very, very aware of how he hadn't spent that much time on his own. If he were to accomplish one feat before an untimely death, appearing before one of his few idols looking a complete fool would be his ultimate achievement.

"You're actually completely sane, compared to most other fans I meet," Anzu assured him, distracting him from his wandering thoughts. "You don't have to feel bad for being shy. Yuugi's just being a jerk. I'll help you get back at him later."

Atem wanted to laugh, but found himself unable to utter so much as another syllable once more.

"He's not usually like this," came Yuugi's voice from the hallway. "I've never seen him clam up before. He must really like you."

"Yuugi," Anzu replied, "just stop talking already."

Thankfully, Yuugi must have had some reason for going back to the kitchen, but that didn't mean Atem couldn't hear every bit of his laughter as he walked away.

"Carrying on," Anzu said, resuming her polite smile once the object of her irritation had left the scene, "it really is an honor to meet you. Yuugi talks about you a lot whenever we get the chance to meet up. I wanted to speak to you in person and thank you for keeping him in line after all that's happened these last few months, since I couldn't really drop everything and be here for him, myself. He really appreciates it, and so do I."

Those words were not anything he had expected to hear again. Jounouchi had said much the same thing after his first visit after the funeral. It almost made him feel like even more of an outsider, an intrusion in the life of this weird little guy who'd had a family and friends long before adulthood. However, at the same time, the sentiment made his cheeks grow warm. Not often did people thank him for his existence.

Finally, Atem felt himself relaxing into a genuine smile. It made his cheeks hurt, and he figured he still looked pretty stupid, but it was a start. "I didn't have any idea." His words were a fumbled attempt at communication as roughly ten years of study and practice of the Japanese language tried to take flight from his memory banks. "Yuugi never told me he was friends with... _you_."

"Yeah, that's... normal. He does it to protect me. Things could get weird if some stalker found out I keep in touch with my friends from school. Anyway, I'm the one who should apologize about all this – here I am, making you uncomfortable in your own home. If you'd like, I can take Yuugi out instead of staying here. It wouldn't be any trouble."

"N-no! It's fine, really!" At long last, the final pieces clicked back into place. Finding himself in full control of his body once more, Atem pushed himself up from where he had been leaning on the wall, puffing up to his full height of somewhere-roughly-near-Yuugi's-though-he-would-forever-insist-it-was-more-than-just-a-centimeter-taller. He patted his clothing back into place, partially to hide the worn seams in his jeans and partially to make sure his hands were devoid of any nervous sweat before he offered one to her, palm open. "It's... incredible and very nice to meet you, too, Miss Mazaki. And I'd be honored if you would stay a while."

Anzu's smile was brilliant, her teeth pristine when her lips pulled back into the sort of toothy grin most actresses would never show on-screen as she took his hand. "Please, just call me Anzu. It's not often that I get to meet a new friend of Yuugi's."

"In that case, please call me Atem."

"Okay. I don't think I could pronounce your last name, anyway."

"That's fine. Yuugi's the only one who ever tries, and he always butchers it."


End file.
